Physical love is unthinkable without violence.

Remembering now all those farewells (fake farewells, worked-up farewells), Irena thinks: a person who messes up her goodbyes shouldn’t expect much from her re-unions.

But what had happened, had happened, and it was no longer possible to right anything.

All lovers unconsciously establish their own rules of the game, which from the outset admit of no transgression.

La memoria no guarda películas, guarda fotografías.

There is nothing heavier than compassion. Not even one's own pain weighs so heavy as the pain one feels for someone, pain intensified by the imagination and prolonged by a hundred echos.

He suddenly recalled from Plato's Symposium: People were hermaphrodites until God split then in two, and now all the halves wander the world over seeking one another. Love is the longing for the half of ourselves we have lost.